


The End is Never the End

by Resacon1990



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Also a bit of a dick, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aule is kind of a dick as well, But still cool, Cute Ending, Fix-It, Fluff, HE'S SUCH A DISRESPECTFUL LITTLE SHIT, Hurt/Comfort, IT'S JUST AN EXCUSE TO WRITE THORIN INTERACTING WITH THE VALAR, It's a fix it okay, M/M, MANDOS IS MY MAIN MAN NOW, Mandos feels bad, Mandos is really cool, Meddling Valar, The bagginshield is minor but also major, Thorin Angst, Thorin Feels, Thorin Is Not Amused, Thorin chooses his fate, Thorin has died but is allowed to come back to life, Thorin-centric, but he's not really in this, but there are conditions, idek, it's background but also not, shitty ones, what even is this fic actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5412569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resacon1990/pseuds/Resacon1990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin doesn't feel bad about dying. He doesn't exactly die peacefully, but the moment his eyes slipped shut he just accepts it.</p><p>After all, what can he do to change it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End is Never the End

Frankly, Thorin has never been worried about dying. He's always had objections to dying _before_ they managed to recapture the Lonely Mountain, but honestly? He's never been fazed when or where it would happen.

It just meant that he would be able to hug his parents again, apologise to his brother for his fuck-ups, scold his grandfather for being such an _ass_ , and maybe even be lucky enough to get one of his grandmother's terrible sloppy kisses that would leave him wiping his cheek for hours.

Of course, dying in Bilbo's arms isn't particularly fantastic. He's grown fond of the hobbit. Enough so that Balin had cornered him in Lake-Town and asked if Thorin wanted him to send out the wedding invitations. Purely because by the time Thorin's courtship with the hobbit would be complete the others from the Blue Mountains would almost be in Erebor. It's all about responsibility and punctuality, after all.

So seeing the look on Bilbo's face as Thorin feels his blood literally _flow_ out of his gut where Azog has stabbed him, and even his foot because that _bloody orc never has had any honour_ , is crushing for Thorin. He tries to make it better, tries to say things that will make Bilbo smile and he remembered the smile that had been on Bilbo's face outside the goblin caves when Bilbo'd mentioned the Shire. Thorin didn't think that bringing those things back up would make Bilbo _cry_ , but there is a gentle smile there and Bilbo's warm hand holding Thorin's cold one is a wonderful feeling.

Thorin doesn't feel bad about dying. He hadn't really wanted to come out of the battle alive anyway, but Bilbo's heartbreaking sobs and his quiet pleas for Thorin to _just not go_ make him change his mind at the last minute. He doesn't exactly die peacefully, but the moment his eyes slipped shut he just accepts it.

After all, what can he do to change it?

 

…

 

Waking up though, now waking up again is something he doesn't expect. He sits bolt upright with a start, breath slamming back into his lungs at a hurtling pace, and his arm wraps around his stomach as if to hold all his insides back in. Except there's no pain, there's nothing, and when he glances down he frowns at seeing that not only is there no ragged tunic stained with blood, but that he's wearing his royal blue tunic from the time before Smaug when he could afford to dress in fancy outfit's fit for a prince.

It's a blast from the past, and Thorin wonders who has the _gall_ to dress him like this. He glances up with a frown already in place, but it slips away when he realises he isn't even in a room he recognises. It's a great big cavern with burning torches on the walls and a long corridor stretched out in front of him.

"Where am I?" he says out loud, wincing at how gravelly his voice sounds. It's like he hasn't used it in a while, and he reaches up to rub his throat as he swings his legs off the bed he's on. The fact his bare feet touch grass shocks him, and he looks down only to see the rock floor rippling as the entire surroundings turn into a _meadow_.

"You tell me," comes a reply, and Thorin jumps at the new voice. He whirls around in an attempt to find the source, and he freezes in place when he sees _who_ is talking to him.

" _Bilbo_?" he practicality squawks, and the hobbit raises an eyebrow from where he's standing only a small distance away with his hands behind his back. "Tell me you're not dead. Tell me I'm alive and this is just some _nutcase's_ idea of a joke?"

"I am not dead," Bilbo replies very calmly, and Thorin feels his shoulders relax dramatically, "but you are not alive either."

Now _that_ just confuses Thorin even more, and he takes another step forward towards Bilbo only for the ground to ripple _again_ and their surroundings turn back into the cavern. Bilbo looks irritated as he glances around, and Thorin feels like a scolded child when the hobbit glares at him.

"Would you just pick a place already?" he snaps. "It gets very disorientating when people do this."

"Do what?" Thorin asks, and he's more confused than anything else now. He hesitantly steps forward, and he frowns when their surroundings change once more and the meadow is back.

"I swear to- _look_ just think of one place and stick to it!" Bilbo demands, and Thorin's eyes widen. He has no idea what he's doing to change the environment, but the look on Bilbo's face very clearly says that he better figure it out _quick_. He doesn't really know what to do, but Bilbo had said think of one place so he closes his eyes and thinks of the halls of Ered Luin.

When he opens them again they're standing in a beautiful wooden hall from his home, with a fire roaring in the cradle and the torches blazing on the walls. It's completely empty, but that doesn't diminish the feeling of _homehomehome_ that settles over him.

"That is better," Bilbo mutters as he rocks back and forth on his feet and glances around. A part of Thorin's chest tightens to see the hobbit in his halls, see him in such a place so personal to him, and it's only because this all doesn't feel right, that _Bilbo_ doesn't feel right, that he sighs softly.

"You're not really Bilbo Baggins, are you?" Thorin asks after a fragile moment, and Bilbo turns to him with a raised eyebrow and smile.

"Well, you are good at making deductions," he says almost snidely before he walks over to stand by Thorin. "Nothing here is _real_ , Thorin. Not exactly. After all, we are not actually at Ered Luin yet here we stand in one of your halls."

"How do you-"

"This is all in your mind," Bilbo cuts him off as he reaches up to tap Thorin's forehead. Thorin flinches at the contact and quickly snatches Bilbo's wrist to pull away. Bilbo doesn't look impressed, but it doesn't stop him from talking. "I am simply who you want me to be, where we stand is where you want us to stand, how this will all go is the way you will want it to go."

Thorin admits he's really confused. None of this makes sense, and he looks around the hall trying to find a sign that it's _fake_. But there's nothing. Even when he puts his hand up he can still feel the heat off the flaming torches, and he clenches his fist as he turns to look back at Bilbo.

The look on Bilbo's face is a lot more kinder, and Thorin wonders if it's because Bilbo can see how frustrated and, dare he admit it, _scared_ he looks. Bilbo's hand hovers out over to touch his arm, and when Thorin doesn't pull away Bilbo wraps his hand around Thorin's wrist.

"The surroundings continued to change because of your disorientation. Your mind was jumping from place to place. From Erebor to the hobbit back to Erebor. I need you to centre yourself and then open your mind."

"Why am I here?" Thorin demands suddenly, tired of playing this game. "Where is here?"

"That is a good question," Bilbo replies with a nod. "Here is nowhere, yet here is somewhere."

"That makes no sense."

"We are both nowhere and everywhere at once," Bilbo continues to say as he turns around and starts to walk away. Thorin quickly follows him, not wanting to be alone in this strange place. 

Then again, maybe alone might be better than with this not-Bilbo.

"If this form is going to distract you too much, then I can change it," Bilbo interrupts his thoughts, and Thorin glances up in time to see Bilbo's face suddenly change into… into _Frerin's_?

"Brother?" he gasps, his eyes widening as he takes a stumbling step forward and reaches out. Oh gods. It's Frerin. It's his brother standing in front of him _exactly_ how Thorin remembers. Right from that stupid dyed light hair down to his quirky grin that always seemed lopsided. There's even a bow slung on his back, and his armour is worn haphazardly.

He looks exactly as he did before that final battle, the Battle of Azanulbizar, and Thorin almost wants to collapse in relief at seeming him again.

His hand is just about to touch his brother's cheek though when suddenly it moulds under his fingertips and Bilbo's face is staring back at him again.

"Well, that was a bust," Bilbo mutters bitterly, "it seems like I will be keeping this form then. At least you respond positively to him."

Thorin can almost hear a clock ticking in his head as he stands staring at Bilbo with his hand pressed to Bilbo's cheek and the feeling of his stomach _dropping_ resonating in him.

"What the _hell_ was that?" he demands as he rips his hand away and glares at this… this _thing_ in front of him. It may look like Bilbo, but this creature is _nothing_ like the sweet hobbit that Thorin loves.

Not-Bilbo rolls his eyes. "That was me trying to get you to _concentrate_. You must calm down so we can proceed."

"Proceed with _what_?"

"Stop asking questions!" Not-Bilbo bursts, and Thorin takes a step back at just how angry the little hobbit is. "There is not always an answer! We do not have all the time in the world, so we must move _quickly_ and your constant questions and indecisiveness is frustrating and time-consuming!"

Thorin stares in _utter_ confusion at the small hobbit. This is ridiculous. "What are we even suppose to be doing? I'm not alive, you're not dead, I don't know who you are, and it's _obvious_ that I'm going to have an emotional reaction to any form you choose. So why not just be your _normal_ form?"

Not-Bilbo lets out a large groan of frustration before suddenly Thorin is blinded by a blast of black smoke. It makes him cough for a long moment, his eyes squeezed shut as his body wracks, and when he finally manages to stop he glances up only to freeze.

"W-what?" he manages to stutter out as he stares at the tall, imposing, dark figure in front of him. He's taller than even Gandalf was, and his dark hood and robe makes him looks even larger.

"I am Mandos," the figure in front of him says, and Thorin's blood chills, "Ruler of the Dead, Doomsman of the Valar, Keeper of the Houses of the Dead."

Thorin stands completely speechless, struck with both awe and fear. It's _Mandos_. One of the Valar. The _judger of the dead_ , and he's standing right in front of Thorin in all of his imposing rage and Thorin feels slightly faint.

He wonders for a brief moment if maybe he's dreaming, but the icy reminder of Azog's blade piercing his chest and Bilbo's horrified face as Thorin died in his arms is enough of an assurance that he is dead.

"Do you see why I did not take my usual form?" Mandos booms above him, "it seems that not a single soul is able to muster up any other emotion except startled fear in my presence."

"It's better than you having Bilbo's body and face, and desecrating his image with your words," Thorin retorts bravely, and he knows if Gandalf were here the wizard would be wincing and covering his face. Thorin never has learnt to speak to authority properly.

Mandos grunts before he starts to talk again. "You know who I am, you know that I judge the dead. I am here to judge you. I believed that having your lover's form-"

"He's not my lover."

"- would allow us to move quickly with this process, but I see that you are more curious and stubborn than I thought." Mandos appraises him with a critical eye. "I see why Aule is particularly taken with you. It infuriates Manwe to no end."

Thorin frowns at the mention of two more of the Valar, not being use to having them referenced so _casually_. It's taboo to speak about the Valar, and even more so to mention them as if they are…. well, _people_ and not gods.

"I-"

"I do not wish to hear whatever it is you have to say," Mandos interrupts as he holds his hand up. Thorin stares at the pale and almost skeletal hand for a moment, his stomach turning uncomfortably, but he manages to wrench his eyes back to Mandos as the valar sighs in frustration.

"What do you want from me?" Thorin asks, finally sick of everything and determined to figure out just what the _hell is going on_.

"You have been a favourite of Aule's for years," Mandos replies, and Thorin starts in surprise. Mandos’ otherwise emotionless expression changes to one with a small smile. “Ever since you were first created as Durin the Deathless.”

“ _I’m_ Durin the deathless?”  
  
“Of course not. You are Thorin Oakenshield. But your soul was once Durin the Deathless. You chose to be reincarnated again and again into the Durin family line. You have sired many of your ancestors by being your own forbearer.”

If Thorin had been confused before, it’s nothing to how he is now. He is Durin the Deathless, but also not? He doesn’t understand it too be honest. The business of soul’s had never been on his “to-learn” list. It was Dis who always romanticised the idea of soul’s reincarnating.

“Are you here to offer me another reincarnation?” Thorin asks slowly, and Mandos laughs darkly as he gestures for Thorin to follow him. Thorin has a moment of hesitance, but he sees no way out of this place except to follow the valar and hope things don’t get _more_ complicated.

“Manwe spoke to Aule and myself about you,” Mandos starts to say as they walk down the halls. They’re identical to what Thorin remembers of Ered Luin, and he relaxes as they walk further down them. The torches that randomly light when they approach is unnerving, but this whole _situation_ is unnerving so Thorin thinks nothing of it.

“I never believed myself worthy enough to be discussed amongst the valar.”

“As you should,” Mandos practically growls, “no mortal is. You are a rare case, though. Aule wanted to reincarnate you once more, although we were struggling to find a Durin to reincarnate you into. Unfortunately, with your death and the death of your nephews, the Durin line of males was severed.”

“But Dis-“

“She will never have another child.”

Thorin falls silent, his chest aching for his sister. He knows Dwalin will look after her, but without her husband, children, siblings, or parents? She’s alone now.

Mandos is looking at him critically when Thorin glances at him, and Thorin ducks his heads to hide his face. Mandos is surprisingly… well, _human_ , but Thorin still feels like he should be on his knees worshipping him instead of walking at his side.

“We came to a mutual agreement,” Mandos continues after a stilted few seconds, “while we cannot offer you another reincarnation, we can offer you something a little better. A second chance.”

“A second chance?” Thorin mutters, lifting his head to stare at Mandos in confusion. “A second chance at what?”  
  
Mandos purses his lips before he turns to open a door that Thorin hadn’t even seen. “At life,” he says as he walks through the door.

Thorin follows at a more sedate pace, and surprisingly they walk into a room that looks _exactly_ like Thorin's quarters back in Ered Luin. It's wooden walls, crackling fire, comfortable bed, and cozy armchairs all look just as homely and lived in as they did when Thorin was _really_ there, and he relaxes significantly as a calming feeling washes over him.

Behind him Mandos is already settling into one of the chairs in front of the fire, and when Thorin looks over Mandos gestures at the second chair.

"Sit," he commands, and Thorin has the temptation of saying no but he dutifully settles down across from Mandos.

"Now what?" Thorin asks. "Are we to go back in time?"

Mandos stares at him long enough to make Thorin shift uncomfortably, before he sits back and laces his fingers together. "I will send you back to the beginning," Mandos explains shortly, "back to when you were born. You will have a second chance at creating a life for yourself. Although, there is a catch."

"There's always a catch," Thorin mutters, and Mandos grimaces across from him.

"You must relive everything," Mandos continues quietly, "right from birth. The good, the bad, all of the deaths and all of the wars, the invasion of the dragon, the abandonment of your people, the gold sickness. Every moment, every disaster, until the _moment_ the Pale Orc stabs you. Although this time, you will survive the blow."

He mulls it over for a while, turning to stare into the fireplace as he thinks. It's… well, it's not ideal. He'd much rather not have to go through everything again. The sheer amount of _suffering_ he's been through is enough to want him to sleep for a lifetime. He can't imagine going through Frerin's death again, or his mother's or grandfather's. He doesn't want to witness the Battle of Azanulbizar again, nor lead battles against orcs. He doesn't know if he'll be able to stand seeing Smaug destroying the gates of Erebor, or carrying the weight of the entire dwarven population of Erebor. 

The possibility of reliving all of the struggles and hardships and _deaths_ makes his stomach twist painfully. 

"I… I have to relive all of that _pain_ ," Thorin manages to say after watching the crackling fire for a long time, "I have to relive _everything_ , just to earn another chance at life?"

Mandos looks reluctant to answer, and Thorin drops his head into his hands when the silence lasts too long. Of course he does. He should know by now that _nothing_ is ever easy. Nothing can ever be easy.

"I am sorry. There is no other way."

Thorin laughs bitterly, the sound ripping from his mouth unexpectedly. "How can you expect me to willingly put myself through that again?"

Mandos purses his lips before he leans forward into Thorin's space. "Know this," he says slowly, "you will not remember any of this. You will not remember any of your previous life. Everything will be as unexpected as the first time."

"And that is suppose to make it better?" Thorin demands as he stands from his chair and glowers down at Mandos. "How? How can I knowingly put myself through that? Knowing what is going to happen and choosing to relive it _without_ prior knowledge? I would be a fool!"

"Yet, your soul has accepted reincarnation every other time," Mandos points out, and Thorin moves to stand closer to the fire and away from Mandos' stare.

"I may have the same soul," he mutters bitterly, "but that does not mean I am the same person. Durin the Deathless did not suffer the same things that I have, as I did not suffer what he did."

Thorin hears Mandos shuffle behind him, and his hands tighten into fists as he feels the valar come to stand beside him.

"There is one consolidation," Mandos says quietly, and Thorin is honestly surprised at how gentle the valar is being towards a mere mortal, "you will be able to choose the outcome."

"The outcome?"

"After the Pale Orc wounds you, and after your recovery, _that_ is when the your second chance begins. And you may chose it."

Thorin laughs a humourless laugh. "A poor consolation," he says, "especially when I do not know what kind of ending I may choose."

"I will give you options," Mandos informs him as he reaches out to pull Thorin back. Thorin almost bats his hand away. “They are limited, but I can show you what Aule has chosen for your endings.”

Thorin purses his lips as he thinks about the possibility, and after a quiet moment of looking into the fire he sighs. “Show me then,” he decides, and he sounds defeated to his own ears.

Mandos looks reluctant for a moment, and Thorin almost has to insist that Mandos show him, before the valar steps forward and waves his hand at the fire. Thorin jumps back in surprise when the flames flare up before they come out of the fireplace to float in the air. He sees Mandos gesture out of the corner of his eye briefly, and he watches in fascination as the flame start to rotate around each other until there’s a flat oval of fire floating in front of him.

It’s as big as one of Dis’s mirrors, and Thorin has the urge to touch it momentarily before he turns to look at Mandos.

“No,” Mandos scolds as he points to the fire, “look at the fire. _There_ is one of your endings.”

Thorin is hesitant, but eventually he steps forward to look at the flames. They act like a window, but instead of seeing the other side of the room he sees the throne room of Erebor.

He almost says something, but he knows that Mandos will shush him so he stays quiet and watches the scene in the flames. It’s a lot like magic, and when he thinks that he is in the presence of a _valar_ it’s not really a surprise.

He spots himself sitting up on the throne on the dais. His heart skips a beat when he sees Dain standing on one side of him, Dwalin on the other, and Balin placing the crown on his head. Thorin makes sure to check his eyes, and there is no madness there.

Erebor is his. He is king. He feels almost giddy at the thought as the flames flicker to change the scene to the cheering crowd. There’s not many, and the throne room looks more like a pile of rubble than anything else, but it’s _his_.

He frowns though when he notices the Company standing in the front row. They all look tired and defeated and… Thorin notices that his nephews are not standing among them. Nor are they standing on the dais beside him where they _should_ be. 

There’s also a distinct lack of _hobbit_ , and Thorin turns around to glare at Mandos.

“What kind of joke is this?” he demands, waving at the vision, “where are my nephews? Where is _Bilbo_?”

Mandos looks uncomfortable for a long moment before he manages to make eye contact with Thorin. “Bilbo left for the Shire almost instantly. War does terrible things to those that are kind natured. And your nephews… I’m sorry, Thorin, but they passed before yourself. They have not been factored into this ending.”

“Then give me another!” Thorin demands, “one where my nephews live and Bilbo is there!”

Mandes’s gaze is piercing, and Thorin has to remember that he is actually talking to a _valar_. But Mandos just nods and points at the flickering flames. Thorin glances back and sees that there’s a new scene playing, and he quickly turns to face it. 

It’s the same as before, but instead of Dain and Dwalin on either side of him it’s Fili and Kili. The two boys look banged up, but they’re alive, and Thorin’s eyes feel wetter than normal as he looks at them for a long moment. He notices it’s Dain who steps forward to place the crown on his head, and he wonders where Balin is.

Once more the flames change the angle and Thorin is looking at the Company. Bilbo is there, he’s standing beside Bofur and his smile looks strained but it’s there. Thorin stops himself from reaching out and touching Bilbo’s face. Oh, he misses Bilbo so much.

Something is missing though, and when he sees no white beard and no bald head he turns to Mandos in shock.

“Why?” he asks, and it seems to be enough for Mandos to understand.

“Your nephews died before you,” he explains, “I can bring you back but the universe will not be in balance if I bring back all those lost. There _must_ be two sacrifices.”

Thorin hates Mandos. Hates that he’s being forced to choose who must live and die. He thinks of Bilbo for a long moment, squeezing his eyes shut as he pictures the hobbit in his head. Bilbo has always been just and knowledgeable. What would _he_ do?

He misses Bilbo. So much. He wishes he were here beside him to help make this decision. He pictures Bilbo’s smile in his head, his scowl, and his rolling of the eyes. He thinks about him and _tries_ to figure a way out.

Mandos’s grumble makes Thorin open his eyes again, and he’s surprised to see their surroundings have changed once more. They’re standing on Bag End lane, and when Thorin looks up he sees Bilbo’s giant green door looking right back.

“It has to be someone I care for, doesn’t it?” Thorin asks quietly as he looks at the door, and he smiles slightly when he sees the small mark Gandalf had made in the wood. He doesn’t wait for Mandos to reply as he climbs the steps and bends down to run his fingers over the rune, but he sees the bottom of Mandos’s coat out of the corner of his eyes as the valar follows him.

“Yes.”

Thorin releases a deep breath as he clenches his hands into fists. “And I must choose?”

“Yes.”

Thorin nods as he stands up and faces Mandos. “Then I choose myself,” he declares with a ferocity he hasn’t felt in years. “I wish to die. Let my nephews live, and let me die. Aule can then rebirth me into one of my nephew’s children, if he wishes my soul to continue.”

Mandos is carefully blank-faced, and Thorin waits in agonised silence for the reply. The wind whistles through his hair and the nearby leaves rustle on the trees, and Thorin feels quite at peace here in the Shire.

“There must be another,” Mandos says gently, “another sacrifice. There must be _balance_.”

“I cannot choose another to die for me,” Thorin mutters as he shakes his head. “I cannot do that to some one.”

“Thorin-”

“I would give up anything so long as they all live,” Thorin interrupts with frustration, “do you not understand? I would give up _anything_.”

Mandes’s face is one of calm concentration, and Thorin stares at him for a long moment as they fall into a staring contest. Thorin refuses to back down, and the way Mandos is looking at him it’s obvious he knows.

“There could be one way,” Mandos says after the tense moment has passed. He doesn’t say anything else though as he turns to the oak tree on top of Bilbo’s home. He raises his hand and Thorin watches as the leaves fall from the tree and start to swirl in a familiar circle. Of course, the fire mirror has gone out in the new environment, and Thorin watches as Mandos creates another one out of the oak leaves.

He steps forward to look inside it when Mandos gestures for him to do so, but what he sees is nothing like the previous two. There is no Erebor, there is no throne or crown. In fact, it’s only Bilbo who is sitting on a park bench in a quiet garden with his pipe in hand as he blows circles of smoke into the air. He hears some squealing, and in the mirror Bilbo turns to see Fili and Kili in the garden throwing around a young hobbit, all of them laughing as Bilbo rolls his eyes and leans back against the bench…

The scene goes black and the leaves fall to the ground in a small heap. Thorin stares at the air in complete shock before he turns to look at a hesitant looking Mandos.

Behind the valar he sees a park bench, the one in front of Bilbo’s home, and he recognises it instantly.

“Yes,” he says, “yes. That ending. I choose that one.”

Mandos slowly nods his head, and Thorin sees the valar’s hand start to glow a brilliant green. He’s weary of magic, but he feels oddly calm as he waits to see what happens next.

“You understand the sacrifices?” Mandos asks, and for some reason Thorin feels like it’s a test.

“Myself and Erebor,” he states as he nods. “I will sacrifice both for a chance that my nephews and Bilbo are happy.”

The last thing Thorin sees is Mandos’s small smile before he raises his glowing hand and presses it to Thorin’s forehead. He doesn’t have time to make a noise as suddenly his stomach lurches uncomfortably and there’s a bright flash of light before…

Before nothing.

 

…

 

“Thorin.”

He ignores the gentle prodding at his side.  His nose wrinkles and he rolls his shoulder to get rid of the weight leaning on it. He hears a snort followed by a chuckle before the persistent finger is back and prodding his temple. 

He reaches up to bat it away, and once again there's another stifled chuckle before the finger is joined by others as they start to jab every part of his body. 

"Thooorin."

Thorin groans as he reluctantly opens his eyes to see a grinning Bilbo standing in front of him. Behind him are his giggling nephews, and beside him is little Frodo who's got his finger poised to shove in Thorin's ear. 

He manages to catch Frodo's wrist before he can move though, and there's a loud squeal as Thorin's picks up the little hobbit and starts to tickle him. Frodo giggles loudly as he thrashes in Thorin's grip, while Fili and Kili dart forward to join in the torturing of their cousin. 

"U-Uncle Thorin!" Frodo squawks, "please stop! Uncle Thorin!" He's too busy laughing to actually get a proper sentence out, and Thorin smirks as he places Frodo on the ground only for him to take off towards the other side of the garden with Thorin's nephews right in his heels. 

A new weight beside him on the bench he'd been snoozing on makes him loll his head lazily to give Bilbo an affectionate smile. Bilbo gives him an equally fond look, and he leans forward to press a soft kiss between Thorin's eyebrows. 

"We were only gone for twenty minutes," Bilbo starts to say as he pulls out his pipe, "I didn't realise you were that tired. Were the nightmares playing up again last night?"

Thorin purses his lips as he looks down at his lap. The reminder of his constant nightmares gripes him, and it's Bilbo's gentle hand settling on his that stops him from become absorbed in his melancholy. 

"You should've woken me," Bilbo scolds gently. "I know how hard it is for you. I could've helped."

"You are helping now."

Bilbo smiles sweetly at him, and Thorin leans forward to press a soft kiss to Bilbo's lips. It's short and sweet, and Thorin pulls back to rest their foreheads together. 

"You've been through so much, Thorin," Bilbo continues to say after a moment, his hand coming up to stroke Thorin's cheek. "You've been so brave. I'm so proud of you."

Thorin just smiles at him as he pulls back. Bilbo follows him and leans up against him as he pulls out his pipe. To their left the boys are all climbing over each other, Frodo shrieking loudly as Fili and Kili attempt to catch him and wrestle him to the ground. Thorin looks down at Bilbo with a tender look as his lover watches their boys play. 

It's like a strange sense of déjà vu, and Thorin instinctively looks up to glance at the lane. For some reason he's not surprised to see a dark hooded figure standing there, but the hood is pulled back from the mans face and he is regarding Thorin with a kind look. 

It's natural for Thorin to nod at him, even if he has no idea who he is, but the man nods back and within a blink he's gone. Thorin doesn't question it. It's strange, but it seems normal. 

 

Instead he turns to look at his family, pulling Bilbo back into his embrace as he starts to blow smoke rings into the calm air. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Summary:
> 
> I completely forgot to explain the ending. Basically Mandos messed with the universe and saw that Thorin's willingness to sacrifice himself meant that Thorin is deserving of a happy ending (after all that's what he set out to give him). I like to think that the sacrifice of Erebor was enough to rectify the universe, as essentially for that to happen they would never have approached Smaug after Lake-Town. Meaning that none of the boys deaths actually happened, which in turn nullifies the need for extra sacrifices. It's basically some of that alternate timeline. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! I got the idea from a hobbit kink meme post but I have NO idea where it is now. My browser crashed and I've lost it, so if any of you can find it I would love to link it in!
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> [my tumblr](http://resacon1990.tumblr.com/)


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